


little treat

by vantsunshine



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Blood, M/M, Minor Violence, Nathaniel Is A Tsundere, Wasnt described that detail tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27813190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vantsunshine/pseuds/vantsunshine
Summary: Nathaniel—couldn’t stop staring at the king’s lips, glistened with blood and sweat.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Riko Moriyama
Kudos: 18





	little treat

**Author's Note:**

> natriko bodyguard au! I'm sorry this is just a drabble I made while doing my finals. Suddenly i was struck with an idea so ... Here we are.

The room filled with tiny, pained moans. Nathaniel doesn’t need to listen closely to hear the sobs from a man on the floor. The smell of blood is thick in the air, the room is warm—damp without him noticing when everything changed. Nathaniel took a breath, the oxygen tasted like blood. His gaze followed Riko’s movement, the king’s back faced him, small shoulders but sturdy.

In this room, Riko is doing his thing. His business. There are some people that are stupid enough to try their luck on harming the king, dreaming of something glorious after getting a Moriyama on their hands. And, oh, how Riko’s shining blades certainly love to carve the reality on this stupid, poor, man. Nathaniel, of course, stood behind his king. Guarding, watching them, and assisting Riko in any ways he wants. Mostly, Nathaniel only stood behind him, hands on his back. His job is finished the second he caught the attacker, after that, it depends on the king. His decision is predictable, of course the king would enjoy this time whole heartedly. Playing with stubborn prey is something he liked as a pastime. Blood splattered wildly on the floor, stained the black painted tiles. The man is near to his death, but there’s no desire to actually end the man’s breath. Nathaniel, without guessing much, knew the king liked this state of his victim. The sobs and his ragged breaths filled the room like some sick harmony, pathetic and miserable, the king basked himself in the pain of others.

Then, Riko pulled himself back from his frenzy, the only sounds Nathaniel could hear from him were huffs of breath, proud laced to each breath. Of course the king is proud, he believed his bladework is impeccable. Nathaniel always snorted at the mention of it, but deep down he knew that was a fact. Riko is still a Moriyama, and Moriyamas always have their cruelty sharpened since they were born; and Riko is perfect with knives as much as he does with exy racquet.  
Riko threw himself to the chair beside Nathaniel, crossed his leg while he’s at it. taking a little rest while enjoying the sight of sobbing, heavily injured man in front of him. He’s sprawled on the floor, bright red strokes marked his previously smooth skin, his face is messed up. Blood trailed down from his nose, and forehead. Previously, Riko smashed that face repeatedly to the ground, cracked every possible bone. Nathaniel remembered the sound of those breaking bones. Riko did it like he was playing an instrument, making a harmony that only himself could appreciate.

“Nathaniel,” with the call of his own name, Nathaniel’s gaze snapped away from the unnamed man. Riko is calm as ever, no real emotions showed there. A perfect mask that the king always wore, sometimes loosened when the king is away with his second. Never with him. It’s a little jealousy that Nathaniel won’t admit.

“You’re so dirty.” He said, it was just a fact. The man’s blood spattered on his king’s face, dirtying the perfect skin of Riko Moriyama. His clothes are stained as well, Nathaniel could feel another task falling on his hand. The dimmed lights of this room made Riko look more sinister, as if his target shifted to him. it’s easy to imagine Riko lunged into him with his beloved blades, carving his favorite paths onto his skin and drew his blood to the floor. But Riko did nothing of what Nathaniel imagined, instead, he smiled a cold smile.

“Something for you to work on, don’t you think?” He knew that. Nathaniel broke his form, sighed while he rummaged his pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. Reserved only for the king. Sometimes he felt like a babysitter, not a bodyguard. _(Jean snickered at that, with Jean’s approval through a snicker, Nathaniel is convinced he’s really, really wasn’t a bodyguard anymore for him.)_

Nathaniel went closer to Riko, his handkerchief on his hand, he wiped the blood stained from his master’s face. Nathaniel made sure he did it slowly, softly, but enough to eradicate anything that dirtied Riko’s skin. Riko closed his eyes as he cleaned the blood off his skin. It was a small thing to do, but he felt a strange intimacy from this whole thing. And Nathaniel—couldn’t stop staring at the king’s lips, glistened with blood and sweat, Nathaniel found his heart skipped a beat at a sudden thought of cleaning the blood with his own lips. Dangerous, filthy and shameless thought. Nathaniel pushed the thought away, focusing himself to the task at hand.

He finished not so long after, then he retreated back to his position. But stopped when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned his face just to meet Riko’s. The king looked like he wanted to whisper something to him, Riko’s chin gestured for Nathaniel to come closer, perhaps he would get an order, finish the poor man off, most likely. Nathaniel leaned closer then, much closer until he could smell Riko’s scent. A familiar scent he smelled after Riko got out from the bath, Nathaniel bathed Riko a lot; now this scent mixed with blood. Thick, but Nathaniel wasn’t bothered by this.

There’s no whisper or words of order, Nathaniel only made out a sound of lips smacked another skin— _his skin_. He didn’t processed this immediately, but Riko, _Riko_ , kissed him in the cheek. For what? Nathaniel couldn’t grasp the understanding right away, before he could ask what was that for, his question died in his throat when he saw those mischievous little smile of his king.

“A little treat, Nathaniel. You’ve been a very good dog. I _saw_ you. Now, finish that fool. Let’s make this fast, shall we?”

—and Nathaniel couldn’t do anything but to nod sheepishly. So he saw him _staring_. How embarrassing. It’s true, let’s make this fast, so Nathaniel could run away from his king and his own embarrassment.


End file.
